"No," said I. "How would you expect me to? We don't have any such
craziness where I come from."

"Ese no tell you?" she asked again.

(ESE was the name the natives had for Case; it may mean foreign, or
extraordinary; or it might mean a mummy apple; but most like it was
only his own name misheard and put in a Kanaka spelling.)

"Not much," said I.

"D-n Ese!" she cried.

You might think it funny to hear this Kanaka girl come out with a
big swear. No such thing. There was no swearing in her - no, nor
anger; she was beyond anger, and meant the word simple and serious.
She stood there straight as she said it. I cannot justly say that
I ever saw a woman look like that before or after, and it struck me
mum. Then she made a kind of an obeisance, but it was the proudest
kind, and threw her hands out open.

"I 'shamed," she said. "I think you savvy. Ese he tell me you
savvy, he tell me you no mind, tell me you love me too much. Taboo
belong me," she said, touching herself on the bosom, as she had
done upon our wedding-night. "Now I go 'way, taboo he go 'way too.
Then you get too much copra. You like more better, I think. TOFA,
ALII," says she in the native - "Farewell, chief!"

"Hold on!" I cried. "Don't be in such a hurry."